Crossing Bridges
 
 
by
Travelling One
 
Email: travelling_one@yahoo.ca
Web: http://www.travellingone.com
Summary: Is mind control keeping Daniel from returning home, or are his fears of self-destruction justified? Uncertain, Daniel must shield the others from himself.
Related episode: Singularity.
Season: 8...Warning... takes place in early S8, but unrelated to any S8 episode.
Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended. Any original characters, situations, and storylines are the property of the author. Archive only with permission please.
 
August/2004 (mostly written before the start of S8)
 

NOTES: If this story is having problems fully loading, please press "Stop" and then "Refresh". If this doesn't work, please let me know. - T.O.  


 
Almost like morning doves sensing new light, the haunting melody of local sanddiggers roused him from a troubled doze, his recent equivalent of sleep.
 
Leaning against the cold façade of alien facsimile concrete, a surface cracked and gutted and camouflaged against all its former magnificence, Daniel knew once again that this day would bring no greater hope than the last, nor the one before that, or the day… week before that. Downing the remainder of the nuts that never seemed to last as long as he'd hoped nor satisfy his hunger, he knew that today he would again have to go off in search of more to eat. Not that he minded the distraction and chance for movement, but the fatigue and desperation of weeks spent in hiding had taken their toll in both stamina and motivation.
 
It had been less than a month since he'd lived in civilization like every normal person. It was just that it seemed so long ago, with a future as dismal as this dreary day. Dreary even with the sun beating down; it was all in one's perspective.
 
Living under the remains of this ruined bridge, its posts crumbling yet supporting the weight of a final few overhead remnants, complete concealment was nearly assured. Neither the citizens of this village nor his former SGC colleagues would think to look for him here.
 
His vision into the future had limitations; Daniel did not allow himself to contemplate farther ahead than one day at a time.
 
Adjusting his sleeping bag around his legs, Daniel tried to find a page of his journal that had an inch of space left for writing. But he had filled in every available gap; no further flipping of pages would reveal a missed spot this time through. Sighing, Daniel gave up and returned the book to his muddy pack, idly observing the long-legged water birds shuffling off with their daily finds.
 
Gathering up the rest of his belongings he folded everything into as small a heap as he could, tucking the lot into a crevice between the rocks where not even a passing scavenging animal or bird would be tempted to investigate.
 
Insects, he couldn't try to keep out. But those wouldn't give him away.
 
Bitterly and almost regretfully, Daniel realized that any scavenging animal and himself had a lot in common these days.
 
_____before _____before _____
 
"Understood, Mr. President, Sir. I'll see the job gets done." Geez that felt funny. But ... good. It felt good, almost like he was play-acting and would have to give up the role when Hammond walked back onto the scene. And he was almost positive he wasn't even sucking up.
 
Daniel watched as Jack replaced the receiver and returned to his favourite armchair. That chair, well-worn and now almost molded to his body, had seen many moods, had carried Jack through times both good and bad, its silent comfort witness to eight years of chess games, friendships, and challenges. Now it was seeing in a new era, one of unpredictable struggles and triumphs.
 
"My former research associates would have curiosity oozing out their excavation tools to know why I'm playing chess with a general of the Air Force," Daniel teased, his tone carrying both ruefulness and pride.
 
"Ah. So you tell me, how does it feel to have friends in high places?" Jack tossed back, eyeing the board. He seemed to have lost some of his inspiration since that call, and he'd been planning such a good move. Now, if he could just remember what it was.
 
"Friends in high places... oh-h, you mean a president of the United States who knows my name?" Daniel inquired innocently.
 
"No, Daniel. I kind of meant a friend who gets called by the president on his home phone."
 
Daniel watched his chess partner concentrating. Jack didn't have much time to play any more; his world was taken up now with everyone else's worries. Instead of retirement, that longed for leisure time for fishing and chess and golf and all the other things Jack loved, he now had to give all of himself 24/7, and Daniel caught himself occasionally worrying for his friend. Not that he thought Jack couldn't handle the stress; he was a great man for the job. But the weight of the world and every other world rested on his shoulders now; not just the weight of his own team's safety. Both men knew Jack would have some hard decisions to make every now and again; sending teams out there on possible suicide missions, closing the iris when in doubt of the base's safety and security; decisions that only the strongest of persons would be able to cope with and to live with afterwards.
 
Daniel worried for Jack O'Neill, more than ever before.
 
Jack made his move. Good one; might even beat Daniel with that.
 
"So how's the job going?" Daniel asked with feigned nonchalance, gazing abstractedly at the pawns.
 
"Hey, what can I say. I give orders and people have to listen now."
 
Daniel looked up. "You referring to me?"
 
Chuckling tersely, Jack leaned back in his chair, contemplating the man across from him. "No, you still seem to give me lip."
 
"As long as we're clear on the relationship."
 
Jack shrugged. "You planning on making a move today?"
 
Complying, Daniel sat back with narrowed eyes. "So you're okay?"
 
"I have to say, this job's easier on the knees. Harder on…" Jack studied the board, concentration wavering once more. Just harder on the heart.
 
"On everything else?" Daniel supplied.
 
Jack nodded. There would be times, he knew, when he'd have to suggest a team be left behind. When he'd have to put an end to search and rescue and declare good men and women MIA. When he'd have to order friends to do some damned distasteful things. He'd always admired General Hammond for his compassion and sensible decisions; at the end of the day, who had the man been able to turn to? He had some family but his work was classified. While Jack knew that his being alone might make this position even harder, in the long run it would probably work out for the best.
 
"It feels strange, Daniel, watching all of you go off without me."
 
"Yeah. Well." Daniel nodded, turning to look at the garden of trees beyond the window. Strange indeed, Jack. "For us too."
 
"Do me a favour, Daniel. Don't get hurt out there."
 
A small smile tugged at Daniel's lips. "I've been doing this for years, Jack. I know what to look out for. But the gate sends us into unknown situations, and anything can happen."
 
"I know that. Just…" Just don't get hurt out there? "Just try not to uncork any more naquadria bombs with your bare hands." And, or, otherwise.
 
"You were offworld with me that time. It didn't make any difference." Daniel finally turned to meet O'Neill's eyes. "You can't let yourself feel helpless now, Jack."
 
Keeping the blue-eyed frown in his own field of vision, Jack stared for a long while without speaking.
 
He should have just left his answering machine on.
 
He hated what he was eventually going to have to order his team to do.
 
_____
 
"Us? When I asked you who was going you said "no one". We're First Contact, Jack, not Search and Rescue."
 
"I'm aware of that, Daniel, but SG1's done this before. I think you're the best team for the job."
 
"Wasn't it you who said, and I quote, "being outnumbered eighty to one doesn't make for a good rescue plan"?"
 
"The remaining two members of SG9 warned no one to follow, O'Neill."
 
"Right before they screamed that they were about to die, may I add," Daniel contributed again, permission being irrelevant. He was all for going in and getting out a trapped team, but he'd learned from Hammond back during a desperate search for a missing O'Neill and Carter so many years ago that a possible ambush on the other side of the gate was not the best intel to ignore, emotions aside.
 
"We don't leave anyone behind, Daniel. That hasn't changed."
 
"Unless, Sir, there's too great a threat on the other side and we're not even sure that Captain Martin and Major Stewart are still there. They were attempting to lead their trackers away from our coordinates and 'gate to an uninhabited planet before that call came through. We don't know what we'd be walking into, C… General." Carter blushed at the error and dropped her eyes. As CO of SG1, she now had to look at situations from every angle.
 
I'm aware of that, Sam. "Well we haven't heard from them again, Carter. Look, just 'gate through to P6X 155, then turn around and come back. That's all I'm asking."
 
"General?"
 
"Enough, Carter. Check it out but don't take any unnecessary risks. Dismissed, all of you."
_____
 
But Daniel was not one to be rebuffed so easily; not when he believed wholeheartedly in his rebuttals. Peering into General Jack's office, he knocked and walked in.
 
Jack lifted his head to ponder the now well-seasoned veteran of gate travel. Where time had gone, he had no idea. But after eight years, he revelled in the reality that his former teammates had all made it this far - with a lot of help from their allies.
 
"Why don't you come on in, Daniel?" Jack commented to the man already perched by his desk. "Don't let me keep you waiting."
 
Daniel leaned over his hands, bending towards Jack. For a moment he said nothing, staring deeply, disarmingly, straight into Jack's eyes.
 
"What's going on?"
 
"Daniel?" Jack squinted in mock confusion. Daniel wasn't one to be distracted from a theory, nor from a concern.
 
"I know your eternal ongoing mission has been to gather technology and all that. And you've always kept to your promise of leaving no one behind, whenever possible - which, I might add, is the one thing I've always agreed with you about. But the final messages from SG9 spoke of violence and massacre, Jack, rather graphically, and I can't believe you'd choose to send us to a planet that by all standards should be locked out of our dialing system."
 
Jack cracked his knuckles. Standing before him was one of the few people he felt he could talk to freely. A civilian he trusted more than his own mother.
 
"You're right, I wouldn't."
 
"…then?"
 
"Like I said; go, turn around, and come back."
 
"Literally?" Daniel crossed his arms, staring intently and profoundly at the general. "You don't want to send us."
 
Sighing, Jack gave in. He needed someone to talk to, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He needed SG1 by his side, no matter which chair he was sitting in. Without their input this job would be much less pleasant. "Someone higher than myself thinks I'm being too light on you guys. Keeping you safe. They think I'm playing favourites."
 
With widened eyes, Daniel lowered himself into a seat. "What? We're a first contact team. We explore. Sometimes it's safe. Sometimes we get killed."
 
"I know that. They know that."
 
"But?"
 
"But someone isn't happy that Kinsey's gone. There's been a lot of public outcry; there are those in Washington who blame me. Even Hammond can't bail me out of this one. I'm going down, Daniel."
 
"And if we go to P6X 155 ?"
 
With a displeased scowl, Jack pursed his lips. "It's been suggested I send SG1, and I quote, 'the team most likely to get to the bottom of SG9's disappearance and bring the remaining men home safely... or is there another team you trust more, General O'Neill?' "
 
"So, double bind. If you don't send us, they accuse you either not trusting us, or of trying to keep us safer than the other teams."
 
Jack nodded.
 
"Well, then what if you send us along with SG10 and 12?"
 
"No number of teams is enough as far as I'm concerned. And I meant what I said. It looks quiet there right now; 'gate over, come home, and report what you saw. No unnecessary risks, Daniel. I want all of you back."
 
"And going and coming straight home satisifies their orders, in a twisted sort of way. Why didn't you just tell us this in the debriefing, Jack? You didn't want Sam and Teal'c to know you're being threatened?"
 
"Subtly."
 
"What?"
 
"Subtly threatened."
 
"Answer my question."
 
"I wasn't planning to tell you, either. Go. You can mention it to them when you get there, if you want. Subtly."
 
_____
 
The gate deposited the three members of SG1 into a small clearing fringed by tall thick nut trees. Bare wooden posts stood at even intervals around the open space, marking a circular track around the stargate. Boulders painted with grotesque animal heads and human features lay scattered within the clearing, as if to frighten away all strangers or evil spirits who might dare to visit. Yet what differentiated this forest from most... all... others were the decorations on the trees. Brightly painted ornaments hanging from a number of surrounding branches appeared to make the place almost festive, until closer inspection of the colourful shells and cones revealed more of the distorted human representations, decorated with bits of animal skins and hair.
 
Pathways led in four directions from the clearing, each one overgrown. While the inner area itself was well tended, this gate did not seem to be in frequent use.
 
"This appears to be the path taken by SG9," Teal'c announced with certainty, looking over the faint but recent footprints. "I do not believe they made it back through the stargate."
 
"Let's check it out," Carter ordered.
 
"Wait," Daniel made no move to follow. "Jack said to turn around and return home asap."
 
"He didn't mean the second we got here, Daniel."
 
"Yes, I think he did." Daniel hesitated, glancing down at the ground. "He was ordered to send us here. Someone thinks we haven't been pulling our weight since Jack took command. He's being threatened with removal." Subtle enough for you, Jack? "So we're here. But they didn't tell us how long we had to stay."
 
Carter and Teal'c wordlessly matched glares.
 
Contemplating O'Neill's dilemma, Carter frowned. "Thirty minutes and we'll leave," she agreed, knowing the general would be trusting her to make the final decision. "If we turn right back around without any reason, it'll look oddly suspicious in the mission report. Anyway, this place seems pretty quiet at the moment." Not that she would relax her vigilance; she'd been caught off guard too many times to take tranquility at face value. And now it was her job to keep Daniel and Teal'c safe, a duty that she damn well intended to fulfil.
 
So the teammates slipped forward, cautiously, intent on dragging out the time. And maybe they really could find out what had happened to the rest of SG9; perhaps Martin and Stewart were even alive. Thirty minutes, sixty tops, would be long enough to have looked around, no doubt giving O'Neill increased blood pressure with the slightly extended wait. But if his career was on the line, and by this point it shouldn't be but there were too many cooks trying to get into the kitchen, then his team would do what they could to prevent any unnecessary stress on his part.
 
Unfortunately, thirty minutes was twenty-six too long.
 
The trees were a frame, providing only a thin barrier between the clearing and the village. For hidden amongst the tree tops were more than benign decorations; apparently the billowing wormhole or sounds of gate activation had been noticed.
 
Bodies began dropping around SG1 now from the heavily foliaged tree branches, human and alive, almost silent until a high pitched shriek rang through the crowd, growing louder with each additional participant, and SG1 quickly found themselves surrounded by an increasing army of masked semi-clothed warriors.
 
"Um, I'm Daniel Ja…."
 
Flame-tipped spears appeared in upheld arms to silence him, their owners' heads invisible behind large, angrily painted carved wooden faces. A uniform cry went up, a loud bellowing wail, sending birds fluttering from the trees. The sound issued from every mask in the circle around SG1, its baritone timbre reverberating into the echoing distance, unnerving the three foreigners. Flaming spear tips were thrust forth in dubious welcome, reflecting in the coated eyes of the masks and looking as though the eyes themselves were on fire. The team was prodded forward, out of the treeline and into an area encircled by colourful cabins, their material of unknown origin but oddly shiny and smooth, the colour of bright orange clay. In the center, surrounding the open courtyard, sat more rings of local observers, both male and female, colourfully dressed from the waist-down with masks hiding their features. SG1 had no indication of their emotions.
 
The teammates dragged their eyes from the inhabitants to the copper-coloured dwellings around them. Paintings of animals and distorted human shapes decorated the exteriors; straw and feathers crowned the pointed rooftops.
 
Pulling to a stop, the natives remained in a circle around the visitors. A piercing whistle rang out through the air.
 
Unexpecting the next sudden movement, Daniel was startled by a small black ball heading straight towards him. Reaching up instinctively he caught it…
 
_____
 
"Oh god, my head." Daniel opened his eyes to blackness. "God.… Teal'c? Sam?"
 
"I am here, Daniel Jackson. I am unsure of Colonel Carter."
 
"Uff. Oh. I'm here, Teal'c." The dazed voice came from a short distance away.
 
"I can't see. Can you see?" Daniel rubbed his eyes, subduing his panic as possible realization dawned. "Oh god, how did they get hold of a Goa'uld shock grenade? That was a shock grenade; tell me that was a shock grenade."
 
"My eyesight is once again returning; I believe it was indeed a shock grenade."
 
Daniel didn't think to hide his sigh of relief. He'd been afraid that his conclusion might not necessarily have been right. Better a shock grenade than unaccounted-for blindness. "Okay."
 
"Daniel Jackson. I suggest you move several feet backwards and turn to face my voice."
 
"What? Why?"
 
"You will not wish to regain your vision with the view directly before you."
 
Daniel paused, not really desiring to know more. Following Teal'c's directive he turned around.
 
Gradually, Daniel and Carter found their vision returning to normal.
 
They were seated in the main square; all around there were natives watching in silence, masks in place, flaming spears held upright towards the reddening sky. With the wakefulness of the visitors, the silence became a low hum, the buzzing of thousands of insects issuing forth from the throats of the patiently waiting crowd.
 
Daniel noted observers to his left, allowing his field of vision to drift beside and behind him. Too late he recalled Teal'c's words of caution.
 
Now directly facing his original waking position, Daniel found himself staring into the wide bright eyes of the skewered head of Captain Martin, SG9. The post stuck upright from the ground, less than four feet away.
 
"Oh God."
_____
 
SG1 sat, masked natives marching around them in a dizzying swaying circle. Again and again they rotated; no faster, no slower, but Daniel had to close his eyes to the motion.
 
Then finally the dancers changed direction, rhythmically maintaining the smoothness of their pace.
 
Each stride in tune and synchrony, the dancers continued their mesmerizing steps, and Daniel was finally able to watch in near fascination as not a movement from nearly a hundred men and women betrayed their choreography. Not a step was out of place.
 
The vibrating chants that went along with the movements were deep, eerily haunting. Sounds of feet, sounds of the forest, sounds of a culture renewing its survival through ritual, releasing fear.
 
Or transferring its fear to strangers.
 
______
 
They brought the man forth; he, hobbling on a bad leg and waving his arms; they, holding him upright and steady. Angry screams bellowed forth from his throat, vocalizations of a madman.
 
Under the guidance of five others, the afflicted man was brought to a halt in front of an aged, wrinkled, grass-skirted but maskless shaman, the latter adorned with necklaces of teeth and claws. Heat beckoned from the stones of a dugout fire pit, steam issuing forth with the pouring on of bucketfuls of water.
 
Skin blankets were placed around the shoulders of the bellowing man, coverings held in place by the tallest standing aides. Invisible now to the audience, the afflicted individual had been allocated his own personal sauna, as the shaman chanted and moaned, clicking his shells together while the dancers kept on dancing.
 
"They're using the heat as some sort of spiritual cleansing, I think," Daniel offered softly. "A personal sweat lodge."
 
SG1 watched; all that was missing were the sarcastic comments from Jack. Suddenly Daniel found himself longing to hear at least one wisecrack; longed to know he had as good a leader in Sam as they'd had for the past seven years in Jack.
 
As the ill man now emerged straight and tall from his steaming tent, calm and quiet and seemingly cured, a state of bliss permeating his aura, all masked heads and fiery eyes in the compound turned towards SG1.
 
Daniel realized he had no idea what was supposed to happen next.
 
_____
 
Separation.
 
A basic cabin with basic food, and the average basic warriors standing guard both inside and outside the door. Given relative comforts, he was neither allowed to go thirsty nor hungry.
 
Yet he'd always hated this the most, always dreaded being taken from the security of his team, of those he knew he could speak with and plan. Ever since he'd been captured by a 4000-year-old water creature from Oannes, locked up and threatened with death under an alien sea, he had dreaded separation from his comrades, dreaded them believing him dead and leaving him to face his future alone. Whether Sam and Teal'c had been left together or placed alone as well, or whether they were even alive, he had no idea. All he knew was that two days of separation was hell, and that Jack would be going ballistic back at the base.
 
Two days of wondering whether Carter had the same inclinations for Plan B strategies as O'Neill, the same brilliance at command as she had in a physics lab, had left Daniel feeling guilty and ashamed. As much as he cherished her friendship, respected her unmatched intelligence, and trusted Sam to lead the team, he couldn't help experiencing a constant loss of security with the hole left by Jack. Something was missing from their team, and the loss lodged itself deep inside his chest.
 
Daniel hated the feeling of doubting Sam, and knew very well he shouldered equal responsibility for finding a way home. Just, at the moment - two agonizingly endless days of moments - nothing had come to mind.
 
_____
 
As he stared out the bullet-proof windows, the gate that seemed so innocent and oblivious threatened menacingly to bring his worst fears to fruition and destroy the last trust he'd placed in himself. Nowhere in his agreement to take on this promotion had he accepted sending his former teammates to their deaths.
 
This time, this time the powers that be had decided this planet really was too dangerous, for now. No rescue teams would be going in search of Daniel Jackson, Samantha Carter, and Teal'c. Not this time, and this was not a decision made by Brigadier General O'Neill. Not that he would have decided differently and sent another team; hell, he had not wanted to send SG1 in the first place. Daniel had been right; this was a planet that should have been locked out of the system.
 
Forgive me, kids. Not that forgiveness would be at the forefront of their thoughts right about now, if they were still alive.
 
Two days, and not a word. Not a single word since they'd gone through the gate. No movement around the MALP; nothing. Into thin air like SG9, only without the terrified words of warning.
 
Nothing.
 
Jack turned his back on the window. He should have been out there with his team.
 
_____
 
 
Finally the door opened, and Daniel's awareness returned full frontal, back from the Twilight Zone into this land's version of solid mud brick prisons, chemically coated and hot like hell in the near absence of ventilation. He was glad to be moved into the hot breezes of sunlight.
 
Straight into another copper-plated hut, scents and odors of spices and dead things permeating the air. The aged shaman stood proudly, unmasked aides by his side. Their faces were full and round, large black eyes intent on burning into his soul, heads framed by thick, tousled nearly white locks.
 
"Where are my friends?" Daniel asked yet again, in a repeat of more languages than he'd needed to use in years. Again he was rewarded with the sounds of wailing and sputtering, each man in turn spitting into the dirt at his feet.
 
"'Shut up'; seems I have no trouble understanding that in any language," Daniel muttered. To which they sputtered and spat again.
 
An assortment of paraphernalia cluttered the room, items mostly from nature but some which Daniel could not identify. The two objects that caught his eye caused his breath to hitch.
 
Two animal skin human figurines, twelve inches high, sat six inches apart on a gleaming copper-coated shelf. One had a gold emblem on its forehead and an X painted across its middle. Adhered to the wall above it was a childlike drawing, depicting the figure below.
 
The second soft sculpture and accompanying illustration had large circles painted around its eyes.
 
Two... not that this was necessarily a bad thing... necessarily... but since Daniel knew he was alive and well, might that mean Sam was already dead?
 
"Uh, I really really think we should find a way to talk about th...." the flaming spear thrust towards Daniel's face, cutting off his attempt at communication. Yes, I can understand 'shut up'.
 
Daniel watched in horrified fascination as a miniature replica spear was thrust into the abdomen of the representation of Teal'c. These people seemed to know who Jaffa were, and didn't appear to be showering them with love.
 
Or maybe they just didn't tolerate anyone different.
 
Either way, the X indicated that they had seen Teal'c without his shirt on.
 
They had known what to look for, who to look at. For the figure with the glasses was unscarred.
 
The latter was lifted off the shelf and rotated in the hands of the shaman. With a small scalpel, the medicine man made a quick cut in the stiff fabric, through the back of the doll. He tucked the figure under his arm; rubbing ointment on his hands and dusting them with a light blue powder, the shaman pulled a seed-like object from a clay pot and stuffed it into the small rip. Then placing the doll into a blackened clay-lined basket in the center of the room, the natives stepped back, shoving a worried and curious Daniel out of the way.
 
In what almost felt like the stilling of time, a fire-tipped spear was thrust at the doll which quickly burst into flame. Daniel watched, trying not to make assumptions as to what this meant for himself.
 
Moments later the fire was out, yet the doll remained unscathed. The drops of blue powder had hardened and dried, like shellac over a glazed pot.
 
Multiple eyes searched out Daniel, awaiting his acknowledgment of magic well done. Awaiting his approval, counting on his fear.
 
The archaeologist had no idea what to do next. Speaking had not met with favourable results. All he knew was that in spite of the presence of these men, he was alone in this room.
 
Daniel's arms were swiftly grabbed from behind; before he could react, his head was pushed down and his upper body thrust forwards from the waist. In an even quicker motion, his shirt was lifted from behind and Daniel felt a sharp prick, then the sudden stabbing pain of fire on his back.
 
"Stop!" His struggle was futile, but within only moments he had been released.
 
Suddenly Daniel's hot back was like ice; involuntarily jumping at the touch he swung around forcefully, knocking the men backwards. Whatever that blue substance was in the middle of that circular tray, it was freezing.
 
The filled metallic tray was next laid upon the Daniel figurine, and Daniel realized with shock that it represented the cold blue event horizon of a stargate.
 
Wormholes and shock grenades, that same phenomenon of primitive cultures with knowledge of things unfathomable. The realization momentarily overshadowed the receding pain of the burn.
 
In that single moment of distraction, the one lapse of attention that the surprise of knowledge causes, Daniel was caught off guard. With unexpected thunder the doll suddenly exploded, sending pieces of itself flying outwards in every direction and Daniel's arms up to instinctively cover his face in a naîve semblance of protection. And he heard the first familiar human sound yet to issue from these men; that of triumph, that of laughter. Then a low hum, and a rhythmic stamping of bare feet upon a packed dirt floor.
 
When the ringing in his ears had begun to subside, Daniel nervously lifted his face. The basket was in shreds; the dirt floor still billowed dust from its depths.
 
Still trying to metaphorically fit the pieces together and make sense of this apparent warning or display of hatred, Daniel was led to the door and allowed to freely leave.
 
_____
 
"Daniel!"
 
Daniel turned to see Carter and Teal'c forging their way towards him. "Sam! Teal'c! What happened? Are you alright?"
 
"We were... detained. They now appear to be allowing us to leave." Somewhat puzzled, Teal'c eyed their backpacks, resting on the ground seemingly untouched. "With our gear." Sifting through their packs, Carter and Teal'c made sure that nothing was amiss.
 
"They're letting us go? Just like that? Why?"
 
"Let's not question their motives, Daniel. Especially since they won't try to communicate an answer." Sam looked him over questioningly. "Are you okay?"
 
"Yeah." But Daniel was having his doubts as to how fine he really was; that little display had left him disturbingly chilled. Slowly, slowly, his mind gave in to the possible truth of his situation.
 
"Let's get back to the gate asap. General O'Neill will be chewing out every animate being within range by now."
 
Sam quickly took point, Daniel trailing more slowly behind. Yes, he'd like to get out of here...
 
"Just a second."
 
"Daniel? We have to go."
 
"Yeah, so do I." Making his way into the bushes and leaving his team with an assumption, Daniel did not stop to relieve himself. His discomforts were far worse than whatever he'd led the others to believe.
 
No, Daniel dropped his pack and withdrew a notepad and pen.
 
Moments later he rejoined a nervous Sam and stationary Teal'c.
 
And within a few more minutes along an overgrown pathway, they had reached the clearing and the gate.
 
The MALP lay in bits, destructively dismantled and battered.
 
Seconds later the wormhole thankfully billowed forth. Sam pressed their IDC, positive that the co... general would not lock out any signal from SG1.
 
Almost positive.
 
As Carter and Teal'c stepped through to home, Daniel slowed down just behind them. Reaching the rippling blue event horizon he released a note, then turned and ran in a direction no one had dared investigate.
 
_____
 
"It's SG1's IDC, sir!"
 
"Open the damn iris!" His faith in his team held strong. Jack had worked with this group of people for too many years to know they would never let their code fall into the wrong hands; these were not Goa'uld they'd been dealing with. And if this was them coming home, get the damn show on the road.
 
Where the hell had they been?
 
Jack waited impatiently at the foot of the ramp to see the shape his teammates...friends were in. Come on...
 
Carter was walking briskly, and she looked healthy. Teal'c was strong, healthy....
 
Daniel.....
 
"Where's Daniel?"
 
The two teammates turned around in time to see a piece of paper flutter through the wormhole and drop gently to the grating. For a moment they did nothing but stare.
 
"He was right behind us, Sir."
 
Knocking back the urge to retort "He's a lot smaller now," Jack knew this wasn't funny; a note meant Daniel wasn't coming home. "Not any more."
 
Teal'c bent to retrieve the scrap of paper, and began to read. "I've been compromised, guys." The words sounded odd coming from Teal'c. "They embedded some sort of device inside me that will blow when it comes in contact with the wormhole. I can't risk coming through. Daniel."
 
"Carter? What the hell's been going on?" Jack's face could not belie his rage.
 
Carter turned to face him, pure shock in her eyes. "I..." But she had no words.
 
"Infirmary now, both of you. Debrief as soon as you're done." Jack grabbed the note from Teal'c and headed briskly to the sanctuary of his office.
 
Slamming the door to the general's office was now an option he could act upon.
 
____
 
Daniel had little faith in magic, but he did know about ritualistic practices of seemingly primitive cultures. He knew the power of belief, but that doll had not had to believe; it had blown up right in front of his eyes. Even more than that, Daniel had witnessed firsthand the influence here of Goa'uld technology. And that was something he believed in.
 
How the implant would react with the wormhole he was not sure; how powerful it would be he also could not predict. Whether it would soon wear off... that was a chance he could not take.
 
All he knew was that the combination of the doll - himself - and the liquid in that tray had been a deadly mixture.
 
And so he made his first home behind the rocks on the gravel beach. Noting the remains of some structure - possibly a bridge - along the distant water's edge, Daniel knew he would be heading there next daybreak.
 
_____
 
Carter's head was buried in her arms when Jack stepped up to the doorway of the physics lab. Sam was alone.
 
"You doin' okay?"
 
Carter lifted her head halfheartedly. While she was used to Jack coming down here, she was not used to a general doing so. Damn, when would she get used to this? "No… Sir."
 
Not often he heard that response from Carter. Jack stepped inside. "Not your fault, Carter. Shit happens."
 
"Not on my command."
 
"On mine, Sam? I let Daniel supposedly burn on Oannes. I left him to die on a Goa'uld mothership. I left him alone on Kelowna…"
 
"Sir, I've only been at this for three months. I just can't believe this happened." Carter tried unsuccessfully to keep her voice steady, her eyes from filling. "I have to go back for him."
 
"I can't send anyone, Colonel. I opened the gate; the new MALP didn't show any evidence of where Daniel might be. But it did suffer the same fate as the first one."
 
"Sir...."
 
"Carter, these are words General Hammond said to me time and time again, but only now can I fully understand how he felt. I can't authorize a search. I trust you to know how sorry I am, Sam." The words caught in his throat. "I'm sorry."
 
_____
 
Boulders and rocks filtering the water's flow created the sound of a gurgling brook or small rapids around the bend from the bridge ruins. The sounds could be soothing, but in the dusk of the long day, with no sign of civilization but the distant drums of a superstitious society, Daniel felt the isolation of eternal emptiness. Here along the water's edges he could sometimes find the odd fish, and now and then even manage to catch one. Small but dried out in the heat of the sun, he could nibble on it in the moments of nothingness and hunger. He had to be careful on this night, though; the village chanters were closer than usual. He could hear the drums and the mantras wafting across the small expanse of jungle, echoing in the approaching night air, the vibrations seemingly trapping and embedding themselves in the crevices and hollows of river rock.
 
In the early darkness succeeding dusk, Daniel caught the movement of firelight in the bushes. Ducking low, he cautiously retraced his steps into the underbrush. There he waited, the sounds of the river drowning out his own shufflings, his own heartbeat. No one had seen him; at first chance he would head back to his sanctuary. No fish on the menu for tonight or tomorrow's breakfast; he might return to this spot later and see if any leftovers remained on the ground from the evening's celebrations.
 
_____
 
Silver moonlight jewelled the black waters of nighttime. Gentle tides swept the cool sands, the blackness of the distant trees completing an invisible horizon. The two young ones balanced their dugout canoe expertly, silently so as not to alert the elders to their summer joyride on the glassy waters. The moon would show them the way to the cove, and no one would be the wiser.
 
Daniel drifted into awareness, the youngsters receding into the depths of his virtual vision and leaving only the longing of such peacefulness in its wake. In the almost-reality of spirits of the past singing their praise to these lands, he could still see the two lovers silently floating along the edges of the river to their own private hideout, oblivious to the bridge that was not yet built, uncaring of the egotistical demanding race that would one day come to conquer their people and send their descendents into a fear-filled existence. Oblivious to the man who would need to use the remains of this bridge to shield his own people from himself.
 
They had seemed so real, pleasant visitors in this land of impending nightmares. Yet only the lapping of the water against the wind-burnished rocks spoke to Daniel of more tranquil times. The moon shone down, casting silver shimmers across patches of black water. This land could be beautiful, if only he could forget the earlier chants of a populace that preferred him dead.
 
_____
 
Jack may have told Carter he was sorry, but regret filled his thoughts every waking moment, and he was painfully aware that if he had still been CO of SG1 he'd have been pestering Hammond to let him look for his missing man. He knew the only reason Carter had given in so easily was because she knew him too well, knew that if there was any way to find Daniel he'd be out there in a heartbeat.
 
He respected her for that. He also hated her for it.
 
For still he couldn't let the raw misgivings gnaw at him. How much easier it could have been to have another voice pestering him, being an O'Neill to his Hammond. How much easier his decision might have been. His decision as General O'Neill, not as Jack. That one was only too easy.
 
He did not know for sure that Daniel was dead.
 
He did know Daniel was alone and in trouble.
 
And no matter his rank, Daniel was still a friend, one whom he cared about deeply.
 
_____
 
Daniel had made his way stealthily towards the town as it slept, this time in the morning dawn. Each and every night the townsfolk used the darkness to hold their outdoor rituals, and he had not been able to venture out during those hours. This time, praying no one would be out and about quite this early - or this late, depending on one's outlook - he had endeavoured to again hit the refuse pits of the evening's celebrations. There would be leftovers to the gods of nature, fruits or possibly dead animals he could try to boil. With greater energy he might soon attempt to move on, possibly to a village across the river where strangers might not be so feared.
 
Possibly.
 
It was all he could think of, other than spending the rest of his days below a crumbling ancient bridge. This time he knew Jack's hands were tied; there would be no rescue coming from the SGC.
 
_____
 
"Find out if Daniel's alive. Don't make yourselves known, don't make any contact. Just see if you can find some sign of him, and stay away from any of the inhabitants. I want the gate secured at all times; you have permission only to go within a 500 meter circumference of the gate. One hour and I want you back; is that understood?"
 
"Understood, sir."
 
"Watch the trees, stay sharp." And hope that the locals would be sleeping in these early hours. 1600 hours in Colorado was dawn according to Carter; just enough light to wander without flashlights.
 
If anyone else got themselves captured, O'Neill knew he could very well find himself being relieved of duty. But that would be nothing compared to the guilt of knowing that he should not have sent anyone back to that planet, of knowing that those coordinates should already have been locked out of the dialing system.
 
Which in itself was nothing compared to the guilt of leaving Daniel behind, on a planet the man himself had had reservations about gating to in the first place.
 
No, this might be his last given order; impending court martial or retirement loomed if SG14 did not return, intact, by 1700 hours.
 
Carter had wanted this mission, but if the locals recognized her or Teal'c there was no telling what they would do.
 
Maybe he was subconsciously trying to keep SG1 safe. Or maybe he had always just used basic instinct, a wisdom that came with the experience and expertise of gate travel. He should have trusted himself from the beginning.
 
_____
 
"Colonel? Found something."
 
"Major?"
 
Major Stanford knelt, pointing to the slight imprint of military footwear. "These are only a few hours old, I'd say. The other tracks are more faded and the feet were bare. I'd say these definitely belong to Daniel."
 
"So he is alive."
 
"Can you tell where they go?"
 
Stanford motioned towards the other side of the treeline, not too far ahead of them. Although SG14 was trying to ignore the sight of both human and animal heads decaying on the low posts, the colonel had forced himself to ascertain that Dr. Jackson's was not among them. All in all, at present the village itself seemed quiet, benign. While the team was taking pains to remain under cover, so apparently had the individual who had made these tracks. Daniel had likely been scavenging for something.
 
"Okay Major, you're with me. Lewis, get back to the gate and wait with Michaels. We'll join you in twenty minutes."
 
"Yes Sir."
 
_____
 
"He's living under a bridge?" O'Neill had felt a weight lift at the news that Daniel was at least still alive.
 
"Yes Sir. We spotted him with the field glasses and came right back."
 
"Good work, Colonel. Thank you. Dismissed."
 
"General? We can go back for him."
 
Jack shook his head. Once Daniel got an idea in his mind there was very little that would change it. "Negative. I'll take it from here."
 
"Yes Sir."
 
Jack watched as SG14 exited the briefing room. He wouldn't risk any more men on this mission. There was only one way to get Daniel to come home.
 
_____
 
Daniel wedged himself into his shelter between two small rock piles hidden below the partially crumbling overhang. His meals for the day would be meager once again and he still wasn't sure about drinking this river water, but it was flowing and so far he hadn't felt any negative effects. None that he would attribute to the water, at any rate.
 
"Good breakfast?"
 
Startled by the unexpected voice, Daniel knocked over a stone as he swiveled around, realizing after a moment that the words had been English. The apparition before him looked and sounded like a gift from home. "Jack? What are you doing here?"
 
"Came to check out your new digs." Jack looked around at the camouflaged setup. Yes, Daniel could take care of himself when he had to. But somehow the homeless version of Daniel didn't strike a happy chord. Nor did the morning's delicacies warrant temptation. "Nice."
 
"I haven't vacuumed."
 
"Okay, less work than your house. Got any other reasons to like it here?"
 
"I can't go back, you know that, Jack."
 
"I don't know that, Daniel. You sure they implanted something into you?"
 
Daniel nodded.
 
"How?"
 
"Injection and cauterization, I think. In my back."
 
"Let me see."
 
Complying, Daniel lifted his weathered shirt and turned around.
 
"There's nothing but a small blue mark." Superficial. "No cut, no burn." No scar.
 
"I felt it, Jack. They showed me a vivid display of what the stuff would do to me."
 
"They're bluffing. Trying to scare you."
 
"Why would they? They killed SG9 out of fear, and more of us came. Yet they let me and Teal'c and Carter go home. If I gated back and nothing happened, their bluff would have been called. They wanted me destroyed in front of my own people to dissuade any more of us from coming back here."
 
"Or they wanted you to be so relieved when nothing happened, that you wouldn't come back anyway."
 
Daniel closed his eyes. He was confused; in the lack of communication with these people he had only actions to rely upon. "As long as I realized the threat in the first place, which they only assumed." Daniel shook his head. "I don't buy that."
 
"Fine; so let's say the explosive's real, Daniel. It's been over three weeks. How do you know it's still active? All you've got is a faded blue spot. The stuff probably wore off same day. These are primitive people."
 
"Yes, the way we're primitive to the Nox? These people have Goa'uld tools, Jack. Sometime in their past the Goa'uld left things behind. Maybe even taught them how to use it all."
 
Jack pondered Daniel's words. Goa'uld devices, in the hands of a simplistic society. Weapons in the hands of children. "So, you're going to just squat here the rest of your life?"
 
"I thought I'd check across the water."
 
"Plan on building a boat?"
 
"Give me another option."
 
"Come home."
 
"Jack -"
 
"Are you doing this for yourself, or for us? If it's to save yourself, Daniel, then I won't stand in your way. God knows I don't want to be the one to convince you to risk blowing yourself up. We'll supply you with anything you need; food, blankets - just name it. But eventually the locals will see the gate activating, and if you're across the river you'd still have to get back to the gate regularly to pick up supplies. I don't know if scavenging is going to get you through a winter, Daniel." And chances are the inhabitants on the other side of the river are just as unfriendly as those here. "The grass is always greener, and all that."
 
"I have no idea how powerful the explosive would be, Jack. I could end up blowing up the gateroom. The little bit in the doll nearly took the room out."
 
"Doll?"
 
"Yeah, uh, kind of voodoo-ish. A representation of me."
 
"Oh."
 
"They had one for Teal'c."
 
"Oh?"
 
"Yeah. Just to show me they know about Jaffa."
 
"He came through the gate safely."
 
"They didn't blow up his doll. Look, I could cause a lot of damage, Jack."
 
"Or the stuff could have worn off. We'll deal with it."
 
"Jack, -"
 
"I'll evacuate the gateroom."
 
At Daniel's hesitation, Jack continued. "And the control room. Hell, the whole damn mountain if that's what you want."
 
Daniel paused, realizing this General was letting a civilian archeologist call the shots. But though he was grateful, he still needed direction and persuasion. "I've missed you."
 
"Then come home."
 
"I can't."
 
Dropping his small pack to the ground below the broken bridge posts, Jack sat down and leaned against an abutment, playing the final card he'd known he'd have to use. "Then I guess we'll need food for two. Got anything to share?" he asked, flicking at the bits of nut shell with disdain. Unable to wedge himself in comfortably, he grimaced, kicking at the rugged rocks that blocked a full stretch of his legs.
 
"Jack?"
 
"Daniel?"
 
"What are you doing?"
 
"Joining you, Daniel. For a bright guy, you're a bit slow. Having a bad day?"
 
"You're a general now, Jack. You shouldn't even have come here."
 
"Maybe I missed you. You don't have dibs on that."
 
"I mean ..... oh. Oh? Okay..... but I meant you have a whole base to oversee. You're not supposed to go offworld."
 
"Hell, Daniel. I can do anything I want now." If only. Jack swallowed his bitter thoughts. You wouldn't be here if that were true. "Unfortunately I'm more emotionally involved than Hammond was. I've been out doing this too long."
 
When Daniel didn't respond Jack intervened, uncapping the silence. "So, what's for breakfast?" Eyeing the few roots and the single wild onion, he volunteered, "Steak?"
 
"Okay."
 
Jack's eyebrow raised in mock surprise. "You have steak?"
 
"Okay, I'll go back. But - evacuate the whole level. You leave too."
 
"I stay, along with Dr. Michener."
 
"No."
 
"Steak?"
 
"Jack -"
 
"Me and Michener."
 
Daniel almost smiled inside. Only Jack would have gone to these extremes. Only Jack's persistence could get him home. And truth be told, he'd rather risk death than spend his life in hiding. "Fine."
 
_____
 
Waiting for the next dawn's light was frustrating, but it had been the best strategic move. Even Jack had been taking a chance on being seen as he returned home through the gate at that late morning hour; having Daniel come through an hour later after the gateroom and control room had been evacuated would have been putting Daniel at too great a risk. Reluctantly Jack had given Daniel the instructions to wait another day, and come through at next dawn. That seemed to be the surest time to find the locals sleeping.
 
Which should have been half an hour ago, by Jack's estimate.
 
Only, twenty-four hours was plenty of time for Daniel to have had second thoughts and change his mind; damn the wait.
 
"General?"
 
Jack realized he was frowning, beginning to mutter to himself in the control room. Only Dr. Michener and a contamination containment technician remained at this level. Carter would get over her irritation at being asked to leave, if Daniel came through intact. For some reason, Jack was almost certain Daniel's fear was unwarranted. There was no way those locals could have done anything to him; there was not even a scar. And at the very worst, no way it could still be a threat.
 
Wizardry only worked when the victim believed in it.
 
Jack paced, looking again at his watch. If they'd caught Daniel trying to come through... Jack shook his head. No way would he let Daniel go through local decapitation. He'd go get him, one way or anoth.....
 
The gate was activating.
 
Moments later Daniel's new IDC flashed on the monitor.
 
_____
 
Taking another deep breath and closing his eyes, Daniel finally allowed himself to step into the blue event horizon. Hopefully Jack was right; if not, Daniel just prayed he wouldn't take anyone else with him.
 
Footsteps could be heard running into the room, and Daniel dared to look.
 
Hurrying into the gateroom were Jack and Dr. Michener. Someone was moving in the control room; beyond that, Jack had kept his word. The place was empty.
 
And Jack's rare smile stretched across his face. "Welcome home."
 
Home was overwhelming; it was a place to sleep in warmth, a place to eat without scouring the ground and ceremonial pits, a place to feel secure. A place where people weren't hunting you out of fear and superstition. Daniel grinned. "Hi."
 
"So. No boom."
 
For a moment Daniel was swept with shame for what he'd put everyone through. This would be tough to explain, hard to live down. Remembering the doll, it had taken a few seconds...
 
"Let's get you checked out, Dr. Jackson. I'll have a look at your back." Dr. Michener was already guiding Daniel out of the room. Daniel realized with guilt that he was hoping the doctor would find the remnant of something.
 
With a squeeze of Daniel's shoulder, Jack nodded towards the control room. "I'll let everyone know it's safe to get back to work down here."
 
The sudden sharp pain in his lower back caused Daniel to gasp.
 
"What?" Jack stopped abruptly.
 
"I don't know. I felt something stabbing."
 
The general's eyes narrowed. "Mind control. Self-fulfilling prophecy, Daniel. You expected something to happen and it didn't, so you're doing this to yourself."
 
The next pain sent Daniel to his knees. Grabbing him, Jack issued quick orders to Michener.
 
_____
 
The pains had grown more frequent and severe, and Daniel was whisked out of the OR and back to the infirmary, waiting unhappily for the imaging and probe results. Carter and Teal'c sat in the general's office with O'Neill.
 
"Sir, I don't see how this can be psychological."
 
"Don't look at me, Carter. But isn't that basically how illusion - delusion - works?"
 
"Belief is an amazing force, Sir, granted; but Daniel didn't believe in it when they did this to him."
 
"He was a prisoner, Carter; alone on an alien planet, afraid, and in the hands of a primitive unpredictable enemy that he couldn't communicate with. He was the perfect subject. I suggest we get in someone from Psych to work with him."
 
"Daniel Jackson will not approve of this, O'Neill."
 
"Doesn't matter, Teal'c. I happen to think it might be the only way to counteract whatever influence those people have had. Look, that was a society that's been using mind control methods for centuries; they're skilled at what they do."
 
"I do not believe Daniel Jackson would fall for a bluff, O'Neill. He is a judicious man."
 
"Teal'c, their methods of persuasion are good. Christ, they had Daniel living under a bridge and afraid to come home. I call that damn good."
 
The knock on the office door sounded a moment before it opened, and a frowning Dr. Michener stepped inside.
 
"Doctor?"
 
"Not good, General. It's not Dr. Jackson's imagination."
 
Not the results Jack had been waiting for, and he scowled. "Then?"
 
The doctor appeared uncomfortable, disconcerted. "We've seen something like this before."
 
Jack's features sharpened. "What's wrong with him, Doctor?"
 
"General, there's a fibrous object very slowly rotating around his lower spinal column. We took a miniscule sample, and found more than a coincidental similarity to what had been inside Cassandra when we brought her to Earth. It has a more elongated shape, but it's still mostly a mixture of potassium and..."
 
"Are you saying the explosive's real?"
 
"It's not only real, General, it's as potent as the one that was inside Cassandra but moving at an unpredictable rate. When we touched it with a probe it swelled up. We can't tell what's causing it to speed up or slow down, but it's definitely not cellular decay."
 
"Crap." Jack snapped his direction to Carter. "Do your tests."
 
"Yes sir." Carter was already flying down the stairs.
 
"So why didn't it go off when he came through the wormhole?"
 
"I don't know, General. It may have been dormant too long. Nor did Cassandra's go off when she first came through. I just don't know."
 
"Well what do you know, Doctor?" Jack glared at the man.
 
"It's gaining strength, Sir. It's growing. And when it fully envelopes Daniel's spinal cord the inability to walk will be the least of his problems. When the two ends touch the device will trigger."
 
"Can you remove it?"
 
"Not without paralyzing Daniel and risking an explosion in the OR. No, General O'Neill, that isn't an option."
_____
 
"Sir, when we removed Cassie from the vicinity of the Stargate, she got better and the device disintegrated. I suggest we take Daniel away from the mountain."
 
"Do it," Jack ordered. "How the hell did they get hold of something like this?"
 
"The Goa'uld, sir. It's possible that Niirti once ruled that planet, and used the people for experiments. She preyed on their spiritual practices; or perhaps turned a more advanced population into superstitious tribes. She used their customs of spirits and rituals to control the people, maybe even passing her knowledge down to chosen followers. They seem to have melded their own belief system with that of the Goa'uld to form a completely new, maladapted religion."
 
"You sound like Daniel."
 
"It's what he told me, Sir."
 
"Whatever. Will this save him?"
 
"Hopefully."
 
"So let's get him up to the surface."
 
_____
 
They'd told him that the device was real. That going through the gate again would kill him and possibly destroy the gate in the process, just as Niirti had planned for Cassie. Different model, same results. Any surgery might lead to an explosion, thus risking the lives of their medical people along with the mountain itself.
 
They'd told him.
 
The words he'd been afraid to hear; the threat that had seemed to evaporate into his soul as he'd stepped through the gate safely, a deep primal relief bubbling to the surface in waves of sheepish joy. He'd been only too willing to believe it had all been a bluff. Guilt aside, Daniel had been only too happy to cast off his fears and get back to a meaningful life.
 
Too soon.
 
Even worse than shamanistic magic or psychological manipulation, he'd been handed a new route to death, implanted with a toy of the Goa'ulds.
 
One that he knew really worked. Whatever model this was.
 
"Come on, Daniel," Carter was tugging at his arm. "We have some chairs and blankets topside, and food. We'll stay up there for a while, then take you home if all's going well."
 
"You can't get me out of here fast enough, Sam. I'm right behind you." Quickly, Daniel followed Sam out of the infirmary, as his back flared up with pain. Grimacing, he tried to knock back the tremors.
 
"Daniel?" Three friends looked up worriedly.
 
"Never mind, let's just get out of here." The sooner the better.
 
But as the elevator rose, the pains increased. As Jack, Sam, and Teal'c, along with Dr. Michener, guided Daniel from the mountain, the archeologist dropped to his knees.
 
"Daniel!"
 
"Oh god." Daniel would have hit the ground, had someone's arms not been holding him upright.
 
"What's happening?"
 
"It's hurting." Daniel's eyes were squeezed shut.
 
"Damn it. Shouldn't the pains be lessening?"
 
Dr. Michener was already listening to Daniel's heart, portable blood pressure cuff wrapped around his wrist. "I'd say the thing is still growing."
 
"What?" Jack's glare first caught the doctor, and then Carter, whose eyes were wide.
 
"Oh my god, sir, this can't be similar to the device that Niirti planted into Cassandra; we activated that by giving her iron supplements and stimulating her heart."
 
"And this does not appear to be reinforced by proximity to the stargate." Teal'c completed everyone's thoughts.
 
Daniel stared at those around him, his forehead creasing with the intermittent pains. "So it won't diminish the farther away I get, will it?"
 
Carter shook her head, unable to force herself to speak.
 
"Can we send him back through the gate?" Michener queried.
 
"We can't risk an explosion in the wormhole." Nor would that save Daniel.
 
Daniel hunched forward, trying to catch his breath and quell the pains spreading across his inner back. "So... now what?" Stick around and blow up the entire mountain with an alien-powered internal imitation nuclear device?
 
Jack rested a hand on his friend's neck. Damn distasteful choices. As far as he could see, there were no options. There had been no options for Cassie. And he despised the next words that left his lips, but knew this had been not only on Carter and Teal'c's minds but Daniel's as well. "The abandoned nuclear facility." Someone give us another choice.
 
_____
 
The chauffeured vehicle was stationed outside the building, but only the members of SG1 were allowed in by General O'Neill. All three escorted Daniel to the depths of the sealed room.
 
If the ride across town had been difficult, conversation lacking and tension leaching into the upper atmosphere, the ride down in the elevator was thick with unexpressed emotion and resentment. Daniel was trembling, partly from the intense pain and partly from intense fear. Fear that his friends might not get out in time, fear that even this facility might not be enough to contain a Goa'uld nuclear concoction, fear that he might unwillingly release some horrible disaster upon the state of Colorado. Fear that he would have too long to wait alone before he died.
 
Carter was grasping Daniel's sleeve, unable to assimilate the fact that her friend was about to suffer the fate she had so dreaded for Cassie. This time she would not be able to stay and keep him company.
 
Jack's features were set, angry, determined not to let his own feelings explode before he got back to the surface. He had doubts that he could keep himself in check once inside that chamber, leaving Daniel to a fate he should never have had to endure. That planet should have been locked out of the system from the moment SG9 called in their warning. He should have gone with his own instincts, and with Daniel's. Hell, he'd been doing this for too long to start second guessing himself; in complying with orders from above he had saved his own skin and compromised Daniel's, and that was not acceptable.
 
No, if anything came of this, if he remained in command of the SGC, it would serve to make him a better leader. He would do that for Daniel.
 
"Well this sucks." Jack looked around the featureless cavern, bare and sterile. He had not been down here with Cassie and Carter, and he now threw a discreet glance towards Sam. She was hiding her distress with locked features that spoke of unwelcome memories and an unsavoury immediate future.
 
Daniel was pale, not only from the intense pains he'd been experiencing throughout the drive but from the dread of what lay ahead. "So." He cleared his throat. "Home sweet home." That demolished bridge seems to be looking better and better, Jack.
 
Jack swallowed, unable to think of a comeback. This sucked oh so badly.
 
"Daniel." Sam put her arms around her teammate's neck, her head on his shoulder. "I'm so so sorry."
 
Resting his cheek in her hair, Daniel closed his eyes. "There was nothing you could have done differently, Sam." Pains flashed through his upper body, and Daniel gasped, pulling away. "You have to leave," he ordered.
 
Carter took Daniel's face in her hands, and pulled him close one last time. Kissing his lips gently, she forced herself to step back.
 
Teal'c had set down a cooler filled with water bottles and fruit; Jack was making himself look busy arranging the blankets and pillow, unable to bring himself to face Daniel just yet. Daniel had his pack of books and a journal to write in. No one knew exactly how long this would take; while not wanting Daniel's wait to be prolonged, they still feared the event itself. But either way they would make him as comfortable as they could, if that were at all possible.
 
With no words, Teal'c reached for Daniel's arm, then pulled him close.
 
"Okay, everyone out." Jack's voice was anguished. How Sam had left Cassie down here all those years ago was beyond his comprehension. He hadn't known her well back then, but he had experienced the terror of loss when she had refused to return to the surface. Yet even then he hadn't realized the extent of their mission; Daniel's face now, here in this lead-lined steel and rock death cell, a looming demise administered at their hands if not by their will, brought the reality - both past and present - home with the clarity of ice. "Go."
 
Complying with final hesitating glances, disturbed looks towards a valued team member and friend, Carter and Teal'c backed away. They knew Jack did not want them to perform this last step of abandonment - locking that door with Daniel inside.
 
Carter dashed back to Daniel one final time, brushing her lips against his cheek. "I'll always love you," she whispered, turning abruptly and rushing out of the cell once more.
 
Daniel turned wet eyes to Jack. His lips quivered, and the pressure on his spinal cord hunched him over.
 
Jack regarded Daniel's downcast eyes with heavy ones of his own.
 
"Go, Jack."
 
Crouching and pulling Daniel into an embrace, Jack held his friend tightly. "What Carter said." Ruffling Daniel's hair, Jack let go as Daniel groaned and leaned against the hard rock barrier.
 
His legs were numb, weak, making it impossible to stand. He had not wanted this to happen in front of his team.
 
Pulling tape from his pack, Jack ripped a strip and placed it over the intercom button to secure it. "We'll be able to hear you, Daniel. Even if you can't stand up to talk."
 
Daniel nodded, eyes now closed in pain.
 
Jack rested a hand on his friend's arm, bending down to eye level. "I'm sorry, Daniel."
 
Daniel's only response was a slight nod.
 
Smoothing his palm over Daniel's cheek, Jack stood and watched his friend for some agonizing moments. Then he stepped backwards out of the doorway.
 
He should have believed Daniel. Should have left him under the bridge, where they could have brought him food and kept him comfortable. Kept him alive.
 
Twice now, he had made unforgivable mistakes.
 
Watching as Daniel curled up on the floor on the blankets, barely moving, Jack took a few deep breaths and managed to shut the heavy steel door. Turning the wheel that was not meant to lock Daniel in but to provide further protection for the outer world, protection from Daniel himself, he tried not to think.
 
But trying was impossible. He could not remove the vision of Daniel being abandoned to a terrifying wait in a cold, uncomfortable, secure government facility, itself abandoned to the ages of inhumane expectations, thankfully unused over the years.
 
Stepping into the elevator where Teal'c and Carter had for some reason been waiting for him, Jack wiped at his eyes and coughed.
_____
 
Daniel lay on the floor, tightened into a sealed ball. Moving his lower body was no longer an option.
 
He almost wished he had acted upon his thoughts before leaving the mountain. Kill me, doctor. Give me something, put me to sleep. But he couldn't do that to the man; the Hippocratic Oath played too strongly on the doctor's conscience to accept such action, and Daniel would not be responsible for the man's lifelong guilt. Nor could he ask that of Teal'c or Jack.
 
Even worse, his death might not have halted the growth of the device.
 
Making a pitiful attempt to settle his nerves and looking around the dismally bleak surroundings, Daniel wished for nothing, nothing but a quick reprieve from this mess.
 
A little girl had been left down here to die. They had left her here; brought her here. Only Sam's kindheartedness had eased her terror and loneliness.
 
"God, Sam." I will always love you too, with a heart full of the memories your friendship has given me. Stay safe, all of you. Safer than I managed to.
 
_____
 
"Daniel?"
 
The voice heartened him, for only a moment. It came from thirty storeys up, a world away. It took him a moment to grunt an acknowledgment. When the hell was this waiting going to end?
 
Jack was at the intercom at ground level, none of SG1 more than a few steps from his side. If the device inside Daniel triggered, that was the last thing they wanted to hear. Yet they knew Daniel needed their voices, needed the reassurance that they hadn't really left him alone. And so, none of them would leave this place until the very end.
 
This time they'd heard him respond, call to them. They knew things were getting worse; the pressures on his spine were no longer intermittent but nearly constant. Daniel rarely responded any more to their inquiries.
 
Carter was seated on the floor, her head leaning against the wall, her eyes closed. God, Daniel. If I get through these next moments I still don't know how I'll get through tomorrow.
 
Teal'c stood stock-still, having made no movements since leaving the elevator. Powerless to offer aid, he absorbed himself in believing that his surviving friends would need him when this was over. Apart from this he could do nothing more. Agonizing over Daniel Jackson was detrimental and destructive, and so he stood, trying to clear his mind and not anticipate the inevitable horror. He hoped only that this would be enough, that this solid rock structure would contain the devastation so that Daniel Jackson would not have died alone for nothing. He would not wish to be among those who were later sent down to clean up, nor would he want to be the one to choose those men. This would be haunting O'Neill's mind for days to come.
 
"This so sucks." Jack was no longer trying to meet the guilty pain-filled faces of his partners. His eyes grazed the floor mostly, trying not to see his watch, see how much time was passing. Daniel was a courageous man, but he'd had no options. He had asked for nothing; no quick end to this, nor had he complained. It's been an honor working with you, my friend.
 
"Oh my god."
 
Jack looked up briskly at the present CO of SG1. "Carter?"
 
"I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier!" Yes she did; being too close to her emotions had left her logical mind impeded. All she'd been thinking about was Daniel, and herself.
 
"What have you got?"
 
Sam was gazing at the wall, absorbed in thought. "We can try something, Sir; it's not much and it may be too late, but I have an idea."
 
"Spit it out, Carter!" Too late was just getting later.
 
"When Daniel told us about the doll… Sir, heat sealed the device in and cold set it off. Minute changes in temperature may be what's been causing the unpredictable movement of the object. If the cold of the stargate is what activated the device within Daniel, maybe we can counteract it again with heat?" She should have thought of this hours ago; those people liked using heat to rejuvenate and heal.
 
"Long shot Carter. What do you need?"
 
_____
 
Within minutes, Jack had put in a request for heaters and more liquids to be delivered ASAP from the mountain. They'd be waiting.
 
If the past hour had been difficult, the next was interminable. Daniel might have minutes left, perhaps only seconds. Time was of the essence, if this had any chance of working at all. Nothing would be worse than the equipment arriving only moments too late.
 
Jack paced the floor, glowering at his watch. Twenty minutes to get here, twenty more to collect the goods. Fifteen more to set it up...
 
Hang in there, Daniel. Hang in there.
 
Just over an hour later technicians were outside the compound, unloading equipment. Dr. Michener was among them.
 
"Daniel?" Jack pressed the intercom. "You still with us?"
 
A delayed moan, muffled by distance, sounded in response.
 
"Look, Carter thinks heat might counteract this thing. We're coming down."
 
"uh huh." The small voice may have contained evidence of hope, but it was hard to tell.
 
"Take everything down to the 30th level, then leave it and head straight back up. Teal'c, Carter, you two are with me. After the equipment's down, we'll go in and set up then high tail it out of there. I don't give Daniel much more time."
 
"Yes Sir." Carter didn't know if she could look at Daniel again down there, but if there was any chance this could help him, she'd do anything.
 
_____
 
Daniel lay on a sleeping bag, curled and bent. Barely acknowledging their entry, he felt a hand on his forehead and nodded at the voice asking how he was doing.
 
"Daniel, it's going to get hot in here. Carter thinks the heat might counteract the growth of the device." What temperature to regulate the room at they had no idea; they were going for ninety. Anything being done had to be done quickly.
 
Eyes remaining closed, all Daniel could do was nod. Whatever was going to happen, he longed to have this day over with.
 
"We've set up four heaters, but we're going to strap a heating pad to your back, okay?"
 
There was no response; Daniel meekly allowed his friends to roll him over and do what they needed to do. He knew they were doing everything they could, however futile it might turn out. As long as they left in time, he would obediently let them work.
 
"The drink coolers are right here beside you. Keep drinking, Daniel, thirsty or not." Another hand on his cheek, and Jack's voice was again saying goodbye.
 
Then Carter's, and lips once again brushing his. "I love you," she whispered.
 
The sounds of the lock creaking signalled to Daniel that everyone had left him alone again.
 
_____
 
The wait above was unbearable. Carter and Michener had given Daniel an hour at most, and Jack had silently agreed. Sixty minutes and they should know, one way or another. With four heaters going, the chamber would heat up rapidly.
 
"So Carter, even if this slows down the device or stops its growth, what happens when Daniel goes back through a cold wormhole? Does the thing start growing again?"
 
Sam hadn't thought that far ahead. They could cross that bridge when they came to it.
 
_____
 
The wait below was more unbearable than that above. The cell had quickly reached 90º Fahrenheit, and seemed to be getting even warmer. Daniel was sweating from the heating pad on his back, unable to toss and turn to get into a more comfortable position. Getting off the blankets, themselves absorbing the heat from his own body, was no longer an option.
 
With the drink cooler at his side, Daniel reached for his fourth water. This one he placed against his forehead.
 
_____
 
The anticipated sixty minutes was up, then fifteen more, but still there had been no word from down below. "Daniel?" Jack impatiently stabbed the intercom button. "Daniel, what's going on?" Forcing Daniel to respond was inconsiderate he knew, but he needed information. "Daniel?"
 
The voice seemed louder; Daniel must have pulled himself closer to the intercom. "The pain's lingering, but it doesn't feel as sharp."
 
"Good sign, right?" Not much, but Jack would take what he could get.
 
"But it's godawful hot down here, Jack."
 
"I know."
 
_____
 
The room temperature had to be a hundred. The heaters seemed to go off and come on again much too quickly, or maybe the insulation just made things feel worse. Unable to stand it any longer, Daniel ripped off the heating pad. The pains definitely had lessened, although they had not disappeared. Some feeling in his legs had returned, and he could crawl closer to the speaker.
 
"Jack? I removed the pad. I can't take it any more."
 
"Daniel, you have to leave it on. We think it's working."
 
"I can't." Besides the pains from an alien device, he was light-headed and nauseous. "I don't feel well. I mean, in a different way than before."
 
"You could be feeling the effects of early heat exhaustion, Dr. Jackson. Make sure you keep drinking. Turn the heaters off completely for fifteen minutes if you can reach them and then put the heating pad back on."
 
"Doctor?" Jack didn't like the possibility of the device growing again, and risking the loss of any benefit they may have gained. "Exploding is worse than heat exposure, isn't it?"
 
"They can both kill, General. Think of a car with its windows closed. Like it or not, we'll have to do this more slowly."
 
"Fine. Fifteen minutes, Daniel. Can you do this on your own?"
 
"I think so."
_____
 
Turning the heat back on was one of the most unpleasant things Daniel could have thought of doing at that moment. Strapping on the heating pad was another.
 
Unable to force himself to move, he lay down, faced pressed into the smooth surface of the rock floor. Then he waited, motionless, trying to forget the heat and his discomfort, his thirst and nausea. If he didn't move, he could forget he was awake.
 
And along with the room, his back heated up further.
 
_____
 
"Daniel?" There had been no response again. "That's it, I'm going down."
 
"General?"
 
"Look, we don't want to get rid of that thing by killing Daniel. I'll radio up." Jack was already in the elevator, as Doctor Michener jumped in behind him.
 
"I'm coming."
 
The grating of the wheel lock somehow set Jack's heart beating even more rapidly than before. Daniel was beyond this heavy steel door, ensconced in one of the most absurd methods of salvation that he could remember sanctioning.
 
"Oh, geez!" The blast of heat that hit them as the door opened nearly forced them out of the chamber. The air in the room was thick and heavy, heated to the point of gross discomfort. The two men found Daniel on the bare floor, face down between the intercom and his blankets.
 
Rushing over, Jack turned Daniel towards him. The man's face was pale, his whole body wet with sweat. Sweat was a good sign, right? Jack unfastened the heating pad with one hand, his other pressing Daniel's carotid.
 
"Pulse is fast."
 
"We need to get him cooled off, get him to drink something." Michener was on his feet. "I'm going up for an IV."
 
"Doctor, first turn the damn heat down," Jack hissed, reaching into the cooler for an icepack.
 
Daniel's eyes slowly opened, as they focused on Jack kneeling by his side. The room swayed, along with the men looming over him.
 
"Daniel?"
 
"Jack." Daniel's eyelids drooped closed.
 
"Hey. How are you feeling?"
 
"Like crap," Daniel forced himself to speak. "But the back pains are fading."
 
Jack nodded. Trading an alien implant for an Earthly malaise, they could deal with the consequences, couldn't they?
 
______
 
With an IV in his arm to replace lost liquids and the heating pad once again strapped to his back, Daniel could rest assured that the device was at least shrinking. This time his two teammates and CO remained in the underground chamber with him, along with Dr. Michener to monitor his condition and keep the heat adjusted.
 
"Damn, it's hot in here."
 
"Try a heating pad strapped to your back, Jack." Daniel still felt too faint, and could do nothing more than lie motionless with a pillow beneath his head. Even Sam's warm hand had been intolerable, and she'd moved off to the other edge of the chamber, content to watch from a distance if that's what Daniel needed. But at least he could now move his legs at will.
 
"If I could do it for you Daniel, I would." They would have to watch Daniel throughout the night, putting him through this heat at intervals until they could return him to the mountain. Dr. Michener had cautioned that additional treatments would be necessary over the following days until they were convinced that the device was dead and gone. They could not risk it's reappearance if Daniel was ever to go through the stargate again.
 
"Thanks."
 
"You gonna make it?" Jack sat cross-legged on the floor by his friend, support offered with his presence, not too close to give off additional body heat. This room was nearly unbearable; he despised the thought of Daniel having to wear the additional heat strapped to his back. Soon, perhaps that pad might be all they'd need, and they could take Daniel out to where the air was cool and fresh.
 
"No choice, is there?"
 
"Well, you know; there's still a bridge with your name on it."
 
"No, you know, I kinda miss my house."
 
"I kinda thought so." Jack settled back against the wall, a formerly cool wall now heated to the point of discomfort. This might be a long night, but the alternative would have made an even longer lifetime - for him, but not for Daniel. They'd get through this, and Jack would be a better base commander for having done so. "Yeah," he added. "We'll get you home."

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